


Don't Blame Me

by thewayshedreamed



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Elorcan, Elorcan AU, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Protectiveness, Shameless Elorcan Fluff, Song-inspired, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tumblr Prompt, elorcan fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed
Summary: Lorcan is travelling for work and stops into a dive bar to unwind before heading to his hotel. He witnesses two men giving a woman near the bar a hard time, and he intervenes. Little does he know, meeting Elide was going to have him dreading the next morning when he has to leave.Prompt fill inspired by the song, Talkin' Tennessee by Morgan Wallen.Prompt submitted-- Song prompt idea! I’ve been obsessed with the song Talkin Tennessee by Morgan Wallen (a really great song, I recommend) recently and I couldn’t help but picture a sweet Nessian or Elorcan meeting for the first time at a bar or something moment happening.Lyrics will be in the notes in case you're unfamiliar with the song.
Relationships: Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Elorcan - Relationship, elide/lorcan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Don't Blame Me

Lorcan was exhausted from a day of travel and was surprised to be holding his own head up. Nevertheless, he found himself inside an old dive bar just outside of Morath, ordering a whiskey and 7 to shake the stressors of the day before bed. The bar didn’t command a whole lot of attention with its metal siding, old roof, and minimal parking lot lighting, but it was perfect for what he needed tonight. All of those things pointed to minimal human beings, and he loved the sound of that.

He parked himself in a barstool at the corner of the L-shaped bar, allowing him to have his back to the rear wall and survey the room occasionally. Lorcan had a thing about that; he was never comfortable with his back to the door. It allowed for too many surprises.

Sipping his drink, heavy on the whiskey in that way only local bars poured, he took a minute to look at the other patrons. There were less than a dozen people total, all in smaller groups. There were occasional bouts of loud laughter or incredulous yells among friends, but mostly, it was a timid evening.

A door opened in the corner of the small bar, light spilling into the lowly-lit room before quickly disappearing again as the door closed. Lorcan barely shifted his gaze in the direction of the door, likely the bathroom, until a certain silhouette captured his attention. His attention snapped toward it, taking in the lines of a short brunette. She was petite, with curves in all the right places, and she walked toward the bar as if she owned the room.

She leaned against it a few stools down from Lorcan, waving down the attention of the man tending bar. When he turned toward her, she flashed a friendly smile, her full lips stretching across a row of beautiful white teeth.

“Jack and 7,” she requested, already sliding bills into the tip jar.

Lorcan felt his mouth dry at the sight of her. He wasn’t necessarily the romantic type, easily captivated by any woman with tits and a pulse, but something about this particular woman called to him. Anyone with eyes would see that she was beautiful, but something about how she carried herself made him incredibly curious to know her.

He allowed himself one more appreciative trace of her form, noting her black jeans, white v-neck, and form-fitting black leather jacket, before looking down at his drink. A not-so-subtle reminder ricocheted around his brain, sounding oddly like Rowan: “You’re only there for the night. Don’t complicate things for yourself.”

He took another sip of his whiskey, resigned to keep things simple, until the sound of voices demanded his attention. There were two men standing next to the woman, who was now leaning her back heavily into the bar, drink in hand. Both men leaned a little too close for comfort, even by Lorcan’s standards as someone many feet away, but he talked himself out of watching anymore. None of what was happening was his business.

He trained his attention back to the bar in front of him, but a distinctly feminine voice dragged him back yet again. Her words seemed short, clipped even, and the friendly smile she wore before was straining near the corners. One of the men reached for her, and she shoved his hand away from her waist. Lorcan felt a growl starting to rumble within his chest, but he mastered himself quickly. He didn’t know this young woman, he knew nothing about where he was, and saying anything would inevitably lead to trouble. Saying nothing felt wrong, but he knew it wasn’t his place.

He watched through stolen glances for a couple more minutes, especially when he realized the bartender had disappeared to the back for replenishment. Not that it was the express responsibility of the bartender to watch out for the women around, but he at least held the power to kick these creeps out on their asses if he wanted. Lorcan’s patience with the behavior of these men was dwindling quickly; it snapping altogether when he realized her back was now arched to create distance between herself and the men, so far that her long, dark hair was brushing the surface of the bar.

“Can you back up, please?” she asked. Her tone was polite, but insistent.

Neither of the men backed away.

Enough.

The scraping of his barstool was his first indicator that he was standing, his legs carrying him toward the trio as if on auto-pilot. There was no game plan for once he arrived, and his long stride ensured he didn’t get to throw anything together before approaching them. Damn his inability to mind his own business.

But his mother had taught him better than this; better than to intimidate women into your company. How unfortunate that not everyone learned the same things. It really pissed Lorcan off.

“Everybody okay over here?” Not his best opening line, but it served its purpose.

“We’re good, man,” Creep 1 responded. Lorcan never caught his name, but he wasn’t particularly disappointed. His mother may have something to say of his lack of manners, though.

Lorcan’s eyes scanned all of their faces, each of them peering up into his own. The woman’s eyes were a rich, deep brown, and almost impossible to read. He held her attention a second longer, hoping to coax some type of hint from her.

Creep 2 addressed Lorcan next. If he knew how little he respected his opinion, he would have kept his trap shut, Lorcan thought.

“Maybe you should tell us if everything’s okay, buddy. You’re the one inserting yourself where you don’t belong,” he stated, tone dripping in provocation. Lorcan was beyond tempted.

The woman still gave him nothing. That pissed Lorcan off, too. But he realized that she had no reason to trust his motives. He was a complete stranger, a rather large one, who could aim to behave the very same as the two low-lives who stood too close to her now. Of course she wasn’t going to give herself away.

He stood to his full height, all of their eyes growing impossibly wider. “It looks like my friend here asked you to back off.”

“What’s it to you?” The original creep wanted to get cheeky now. Lorcan’s eyes snapped to his, and he did nothing to conceal the promise he knew flared in them.

“You didn’t do as she asked. I want to know why,” he replied, his tone far more neutral than he felt. A younger Lorcan would have punched them both already and gotten himself into a well of trouble. At least he outlasted younger Lorcan.

The other man snorted a laugh, but neither of them answered his question. Some of the tension had left the woman’s shoulders at his words, but her face was still veiled in that mask of indifference. Even though he may regret the choice, Lorcan wedged his large frame between her and the two men and took two steps forward, forcing them to retreat slightly.

“Look, man. I get you’re trying to do some knight-in-shining-armor shit, but you don’t want this problem. I promise you,” one of the men insisted. He glanced to his companion who nodded his agreement, and Lorcan choked back the laugh that threatened to leave him.

“I have nothing to gain and nothing to lose. Leave her alone,” Lorcan warned, his tone low and smooth with a terrifying sort of calm.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is. Who are you to come over here and threaten us? As long as you know you asked for what you have coming,” the same, stupid man sneered. His voice shook with anger.

Lorcan couldn’t fucking care.

He lowered his head toward them so that he could speak in a hushed voice. He had no interest in a spectacle.

“Listen,” he began, voice as smooth as velvet and lethal as a blade, “this is incredibly simple. You are making her uncomfortable. She asked you to stop. You didn’t. Now, I’m asking you to stop and to walk away. The difference is, I could snap both of your fucking necks and sleep like a baby tonight. Get. the Fuck. Outta. Here,” he instructed, his words punctuated by alternating jabs of his index finger into each of their chests.

“Fuck you,” Creep 2 spat. It seemed they believed him though, because both of them retreated and walked toward a table.

It was wise to believe him, Lorcan thought. They had no way of knowing that his threat wasn’t an empty one, but they made the right call all the same. He resisted the urge to turn back toward the woman, rolled his neck, and turned to walk to his previous seat. He was supposed to be de-stressing at this bar, not threatening to murder people. Rowan’s voice resurfaced in his head, but he promptly shut it down. Rowan didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

Okay, that was a lie, but Lorcan would never willingly admit it.

He took a long pull of his drink, wincing a little as he set it back on the bar. He stared into the glass, watching the ice as he spun the glass in an effort to bring his temper back to Earth. It was almost working.

He heard a barstool being pulled away from the bar, but before he could glance up, he saw a black leather sleeve slide into his periphery.

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice polite.

Lorcan could only blink at her for a couple of seconds. She was even more breathtaking up-close, her eyes sparkling and a beauty mark just below her bottom lip. The corner of that very lip started to drag upward in amusement, and he realized he never actually returned the greeting.

“Sorry. Hi,” he replied lamely, huffing a small laugh through his nose. “Took me a second to realize you were talking to me.”

She made a show of looking around them; the only two sitting at the bar and framing the corner.

“Understandable. I could have been talking to anyone,” she teased, a sly, sideways smile gracing her full mouth.

Despite his effort to the contrary, Lorcan laughed again at his own expense; head dipping between his broad shoulders and a couple of rogue strands of hair falling into his face from his sorry excuse for a bun. He probably should have made a pass by a mirror before wandering in here, but how was he supposed to know this beautiful creature would grace this place?

“Did you come here just to stir up trouble? Or to torture me?” Lorcan joked. The second question applied to their current interaction, but he realized it applied to this entire night, too.

“All of the above?” she replied, her voice trailing upward toward the end in hopes he would accept her answer. When he didn’t refuse her, she extended her hand. “Sorry, I’m rude— didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Elide.”

He accepted her outstretched hand, pretending it didn’t thrill him to feel her soft skin against the callouses of his own.

“Nice to meet you, Elide. You have a beautiful name.” He released her hand by easing it onto the bar. That seemed so much more polite than… dropping it. “I’m Lorcan.”

“Lorcan,” she murmured, as if she were trying to memorize it. He decided he loved how it sounded rolling off her tongue. “You have an accent. Where are you from? I can’t place it, exactly.”

“Is it really so obvious?” he asked, genuinely curious. Anytime he traveled, he got the question. She nodded as he spoke again, “I’m from Doranelle.”

“Well, Lorcan of Doranelle, I believe I owe you thanks. Normally, the territorial, alpha male thing irritates the shit out of me, but I have to admit you saved me back there. You know, give credit where it’s due, and all that.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile, her presence inspiring him to be far more talkative that he had originally planned. “Oh, you thought I was saving you? You got me all wrong, baby.” He cringed internally at the nickname, not meaning in the slightest for it to slip out of his mouth. He had known Elide for all of ten minutes, for fuck’s sake. He kept talking in hopes that she would ignore it along with him. “I stepped in to save their asses from you, actually. Not that they deserve it in the least, pieces of shit.”

Elide tilted her head back as she laughed heartily at his joke. Lorcan indulged himself in scanning the column of her throat, only to find his eyes locked on her lips once she dropped her chin. She pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth and offered a shy smile under his appreciation. Jealousy coursed through him; he wanted to be the one to bite that lip.

“What do you think about getting another drink and moving outside to talk?” Elide asked, a blush suddenly rushing to her cheeks. “I mean, no pressure or anything. I just— It’s loud in here, and I thought the least I could do was get you a refill—”

“Elide,” Lorcan interrupted, fearful that if she were anymore adorable he may die. “I’d love that. Plus, like you said, it’s the least you could do.”

Elide sent a playful, sideways glare his way. It sent a thrill through him, which made Lorcan wonder a little about himself. He winked, delighting far too much in the blush that returned to her face.

—

Lorcan wasn’t sure at what point he’d completely lost track of time, but he imagined he and Elide had been talking outside for hours. They had eased themselves onto the lowered tailgate of his old truck, legs dangling and Elide’s feet kicking softly back and forth. The conversation started off light enough, mostly about what each of them did for a living, what brought Lorcan to Morath, and discussing differences between Morath and Doranelle.

Somewhere along the way, the conversation deepened significantly. He would think it the product of the whiskey if not for the barely touched drinks sitting between them. Elide shared with him that both of her parents had died when she was very young; her mother of cancer and her father in a car accident only months later. She explained how she had ended up in her uncle’s custody as a child, enduring incredible amounts of verbal and physical abuse until she moved out on her own. His yells had followed her out the door as she slammed it shut, and that was the last she had heard from him. Lorcan hated him.

Her willingness to share such sensitive information with him softened his own walls. He found himself sharing his upbringing as an only child to a single mother. He couldn’t bring himself to complain, especially with everything she had already shared, so he decided to share stories of his childhood. Elide was nearly laughing to tears at his stories of his antics as a young boy and an asshole teenager. She found the most humor in how his mother had responded to those antics more than the antics themselves; his heart warmed at that.

“She would like you, you know,” he mused. “You would have won her over at ‘alpha male, territorial thing’.” He chuckled to himself, thinking of the hell the two women could give him if in the same place.

“Well, your mom sounds wonderful. A woman of great taste, too,” Elide joked, reaching out with her foot to jab Lorcan’s calf playfully.

“Now you’re just being a kiss-ass,” he retorted, pinching her side playfully.

She yelped, covering the area with her hand as if he’d shot her and the bleeding needed to be stopped.

“Your mother will hear about this, Lorcan of Doranelle,” she promised.

Despite clear indicators that Elide was wholly joking, Lorcan’s pulse quickened just slightly at the taunt. His mom would delight in knowing it, and he took a private vow to take that information to the grave.

Lorcan gasped in mock indignation. “Witch.”

Elide only smiled, turning her attention to the sky.

“You know, I live only 15-20 minutes away from here; just inside the city. The light pollution does zero justice to how beautiful the night sky can be,” she murmured. “You can’t see half of these stars within city limits.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, not wanting to disrupt the moment with his rough voice. “Been a while since I’ve seen so many lightning bugs, too.”

Her head rolled toward him, her attention now fixed on his profile rather than the sky. “What?” she asked through a giggle.

Lorcan furrowed his brow as he looked at her, confused at what her laugh implied. “They’re everywhere out here. Look,” he insisted, pointing his finger toward various swarms of the fluorescent bugs.

“I see them, Lorcan. What did you call them, though?”

“Lightning bugs,” he replied confidently. Because that’s what they were called.

If he didn’t love the sound of her laugh so much, he may have been annoyed to hear it again.

“Don’t you mean fireflies?” she teased.

“Maybe if I were a city snob like you.” He gave a soft flick to her nose. “But, those are lightning bugs to me. Just like they’ve always been— as far back as when Rowan and I would steal all my mom’s jars to catch them. Damn, she’d get so mad at us.”

“Be right back,” Elide announced suddenly.

All he could do was watch her petite form prance across the gravel parking lot; on a mission known by her alone. A few minutes passed before Lorcan heard the door to the bar open, then close and looked up to see Elide bounding toward him excitedly. She held out an empty jar, the remnants of the label identifying it as an old olive jar.

“Thank you?” It was easily the oddest gift he had ever received, but he wouldn’t have it in him to deny her.

That beautiful laugh graced him yet again. “Teach me how to catch them,” she murmured, her lip between her teeth again.

“Teach you out to catch what?” he asked, a smart-ass smirk on his face.

Elide rolled her eyes, exhaled a long breath, and squared her shoulders. “Teach me to catch lightning bugs, please.”

They spent some time near the tree line that surrounded the small bar, trying to blend into their surroundings as to not disturb their prey. Elide kept her back pressed to Lorcan’s front, allowing him to whisper and point out the location of the bugs in flight. The way she held that jar like something holy, outstretched and positioned to execute her task, filled him with an affection he hadn’t felt since… ever, really. But when she looked up at him over her shoulder, her smile beaming in the low light reflecting from the bar, Lorcan was struck stupid.

Lorcan’s hands shadowed Elide’s wrists, ready to help in the event they needed to make any sudden moves. She took the opportunity to lean her weight into him, and just like that, he was a goner. He had never connected with someone so quickly in the entirety of his life.

Several bugs flew near them, and Elide moved as swiftly as wind. She slammed the lid on the jar triumphantly, turning around to present her catch to Lorcan as if it was her life’s work.

“I got two!” She celebrated a little, hopping up and down before him. She landed on a pile of leaves, one of her feet flying out from under her without warning. Her yelp launched Lorcan into action, and his hands shot out to steady her by her elbows.

“Easy, baby. You’ll hurt yourself,” he whispered. He didn’t cringe at the term of endearment this time; it came far too naturally.

Her jar was clutched tightly to her chest, clearly in the interest of saving those damn bugs over herself. She looked up at him, concern laced all over her features.

“What’s wrong?” He reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

A pensive look stayed on her face, several agonizing seconds passing before she opened her mouth again.

“I think I should let them go,” she pouted. “It feels wrong to keep them trapped in here.”

A chuckle bubbled out of Lorcan’s chest, competing only with the swell of warmth that resulted from her purity.

“Let’s let them go and head back then, yeah? It’s getting colder anyway,” he offered.

Her only reply was a smile before she turned to let her new friends free. He dared to rest his arm over her shoulder on the walk back and was relieved that she leaned heavily into him in response. Lorcan had no idea how he was going to separate himself from her once they got back when she fit into him so perfectly.

When they reached the parking lot, he scanned the spaces and realized his truck was the only one that remained.

“Do you need a ride?” he offered, praying she would take him up on the offer. Anything to delay the inevitable.

“I do, actually. Do you mind? I don’t want to take you out of the way. I could always call a cab,” she rambled.

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. “Stop that. I’m happy to do it,” he murmured, quite overwhelmed with the feeling of her lips against his skin. He dropped it quickly, turning his attention to finding his keys in his pocket.

“Just tell me where to go,” he finished, walking around to open her door for her.

Once he shut her door and walked around, he cleared his pockets before easing himself into the driver’s seat. Elide had her shoes kicked off, legs tucked underneath her; looking as if she was used to being a passenger in his truck. He liked how comfortable she seemed.

He lowered his phone and wallet into the cup holder, right next to her empty olive jar. His lock screen lit up, and Lorcan blinked several times at the time.

“Oh, shit. Elide, it’s four in the morning,” he laughed, easing them out of the parking spot. “My check-out is in 6 hours.”

“No wonder I’m so exhausted. I feel like I could pass out,” she replied groggily.

Lorcan reached down and pulled his center console up, exposing the center seat between them. She eyed him curiously, trying to figure out his intentions. His hand tapped his own thigh softly, inviting her to rest her head for the drive.

She looked painfully tempted, gazing longingly at the comfortable pillow that was his lap. “I’ll wake you when we get closer to the city so you can give me directions,” he offered.

He was about to take a left out of the bar parking lot when he felt Elide’s hand grip his own. “Lorcan?”

The truck jerked slightly in his haste to move back to the brake pedal.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

Her eyes scanned his face for a second before they fell to the empty seat between them. “I’m, um—” She shook her head to steady herself. “I’m not ready to say goodnight yet.” She brought his hand to her lips, her warm exhales fanning across the back of his palm as she placed a kiss to his knuckles.

“Thank the gods,” he muttered, reaching across his body with the opposite hand to shift back into park.

That hand moved to the front of her leather jack to pull her toward him, their lips meeting eagerly across the center of the bench seat. He kissed her slowly, teasing her with the barest slips of his tongue. Elide’s hands slid over his chest and continued their ascent; until they found their place nestled into his hair. Her fingers tightened at his scalp, and he couldn’t help the groan that escaped him.

“Stay with me?” he whispered against her mouth.

Elide pulled back to bless him with one of her heart-stopping smiles, and he knew he was only making it that much harder to leave. He didn’t care.

“I like that idea,” she began cheerfully, settling down into the seat and laying her head on his thigh. “Now you don’t even have to wake me up for directions.”

“You are something else, you.” He tapped her on the nose before putting the truck in drive again.

He turned onto the main road, his hand resting on her hip as she dozed.

“You better not be a serial killer or something. I’ll kick your ass,” Elide stated, her words distorted by her smooshed cheek against his leg.

“Wouldn’t I have disposed of you in the woods rather than invite you back to a hotel room under my name?”

“Good point,” she conceded with a yawn, her eyes sliding shut as sleep took her.

—

Elide was a deep sleeper, Lorcan learned. It took him a couple of minutes to shake her awake and another couple of attempts before she stayed awake. She squinted against the lights of the hotel parking lot, the faint imprint of his jeans ghosting across her cheek. Her heavy exhale was the only sound in the truck; that is, until Lorcan’s soft laugh at her pout carried throughout the cab.

“Don’t you make fun of me,” she threatened. And frankly, it was adorable.

“I would never,” he assured her softly. “Come on. I’ll let you on my back.”

He unfolded from the driver’s seat, turning around to lower himself enough so that Elide could climb on. She did so clumsily, her arms circling his shoulders and face tucked into his neck. He didn’t hate the way she felt pressed against him like this.

The trip to his room was short. His room was on the second floor, and he lucked out in having a room not far from the elevator. He opened the door before easing Sleeping Beauty to the floor. There was an extra tee that was still clean in his duffle, and he tossed it to her. While she slipped into the small bathroom, he changed into a fresh tee himself and slid off his jeans before climbing into bed.

It wasn’t long before he felt the bed dip slightly under her weight. She curled in next to him, tucking herself tightly into his side and her leg thrown haphazardly over his hips. The scheduled wake-up call was going to come too soon, and his time was slipping away from him too quickly.

Rather than lament over the future, he wrapped his arm tightly around the beautiful, spirited woman next to him, lacing his fingers at her lower back. Her hum of contentment rippled through him as he pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

“G'night, Lor,” she whispered.

“Night, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics:
> 
> You say those city boys living in those high rise condos
> 
> Only left you feeling low
> 
> Those little smoke glass fancy cars sure go fast
> 
> But never got you where you wanted to go
> 
> All I’ve ever owned is an old C, 72’
> 
> Cuddled up, get you falling in love on the bench seat
> 
> Don’t mind me I’m just talking Tennessee
> 
> Girl don’t blame me if I slip and call you baby
> 
> That’s just my way of letting the lady know she’s working on me
> 
> There I go letting my south side show whiskey whispering on
> 
> Little sweet nothing southernisms, Jack and 7 sipping
> 
> Hoping that you’re digging on me talking Tennessee
> 
> You say those street lights only ever let you see the skyline
> 
> It’s been a long time
> 
> Since the Milky Way, Jupiter and Venus took your breath away
> 
> Yeah like you’re taking mine
> 
> What you say we grab some tailgate underneath the stars
> 
> Catch a few fireflies in a moonshine jar
> 
> Don’t mind me I’m just talking Tennessee
> 
> Girl don’t blame me if I slip and call you baby
> 
> That’s just my way of letting the lady know she’s working on me
> 
> There I go letting my south side show whiskey whispering on
> 
> Little sweet nothing southernisms, Jack and 7 sipping
> 
> Hoping that you’re digging on me talking Tennessee
> 
> There I go letting my south side show whiskey whispering on
> 
> Little sweet nothing southernisms, Jack and 7 sipping
> 
> Hoping that you’re digging on me talking Tennessee
> 
> Talking Tennessee Talking Tennessee


End file.
